


I'm a Freak

by JustLyra



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Fear, Hermaphrodites, M/M, Secrets, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9541532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLyra/pseuds/JustLyra
Summary: Marc is a bit different. He has to try and tell Jorge...





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bavarian_angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bavarian_angel/gifts).



“Oh…” Marc bit his lip, all his awkwardness’s and fears crashing together in one sentence, “Well…”

Jorge sat up, glad the blanket was covering most of his nakedness given the way Marc had reacted to his suggestion of no condoms, “We don’t have too or anything… I was just thinking if we were both tested and exclusive then… Oh, well, yeah, I suppose we didn’t discuss that. I just assumed… Never mind.”

“No, it’s not that,” Marc caught Jorge’s arm, stopping the elder from getting out of the bed, his heart racing at double normal speed and his stomach lurching uncomfortably, “Please don’t go, it’s not that, not at all. I haven’t with anyone else since we started this. I promise.”

More relieved by that than he’d realised he would be Jorge nodded slowly, the redness on his face starting to subside, “Right. Good. Me neither.”

“The thing is…” Marc closed his eyes, this the moment that most of his relationships had ended before, “Look I can’t discuss this naked in case you leave, so can we get a drink or something?”

Eying Marc with suspicion, Jorge narrowed his eyes, trying not to sound accusatory, but mostly failing, “You haven’t got something, have you?”

“No!” Marc’s face showed the hurt as much as his voice, shaking his head, he reached to the floor for his boxers, feeling too exposed, “Let’s go through to the sofa.”

Feeling like a dick, Jorge reached for Marc’s shoulder, silently cursing himself for not keeping his mouth shut, “Sorry… Sorry. I’ll make us drinks.”

*

Sitting on the sofa, both clad in boxers, Jorge put his glass down, turning to Marc, “I’m sorry. It’s obviously something important to you and I was a dick for saying something so fucking stupid.”

“It’s ok,” Shrugging, clearly hurting, Marc dodged every attempt at eye contact, “It’s what everyone always thinks…”

Cursing himself some more, Jorge put his hand on Marc’s thigh, concern taking over everything else, “Talk to me?”

“I’m a freak…” Marc laughed sadly, shrugging again as he looked up at Jorge with tear-filled eyes, “This is the point that you’ll walk away, never speak to me again and if I’m _really_ lucky you’ll use it against me…”

Squeezing Marc’s thigh, terrified or saying or doing the wrong thing, Jorge wiped a tear from Marc’s face, the way Marc seemed to be curling in on himself worrying him, “Talk to me babe…”

“I’m a freak…” Marc sniffed, wrapping his arms around his abdomen, wishing he’d picked up a t-shirt, “When I was born there was a problem… Some of it wasn’t a big, big deal… Like I had three nipples instead of two, but they said that was easily fixed with an operation… But some of it wasn’t.”

Sensing the younger man just had to say his words, Jorge nodded, squeezing Marc’s thigh again, but stayed silent to let him speak.

“I had bits that I shouldn’t have… Inside me… I had to have an operation because my umbilical cord was wrong, it was too big and bits hadn’t closed properly… They found… The found some stuff…”

Shuffling along the sofa, Marc’s soft sobs breaking his heart, Jorge wrapped his arm around Marc’s shoulders, pulling him tighter to his chest, “It’s ok…”

“It’s not,” Marc closed his eyes, not wanting to see the horror on Jorge’s face as he let the words tumble out, “I have some female parts… A uterus, some tubes… I’m probably sterile both as a man and a woman, but I have all the bits for both so unless I have some bits out there’s always a chance of… Well… Something going wrong…”

Jorge nodded, processing the words, holding Marc as he sobbed quietly, his tears wetting Jorge’s chest, “So, we have to use condoms because there’s a chance you could get pregnant?”

“It’s tiny, really tiny, but…” His skin crawling, feeling like the worst kind of freak, Marc closed his eyes, voice soft, “You can go. It’s ok…”

Jorge frowned, before shaking his head, “I’m not going to _go_ … Is that it? Is there anything else?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

Tilting Marc’s head up, Jorge wiped away tears with his thumb, “Are you telling me that the only issue here is the fact that we need to keep using condoms?”

“I’m a freak…”

Jorge smiled, kissing Marc softly, chaste and warm, “You’ve always been a freak Marquez, but not because of this…”

“But everyone…”

Shaking his head, Jorge silenced him again, the older man’s tongue licking along Marc’s bitten lip, asking for, and getting, entry into Marc’s mouth to swipe around gently, rolling over his to tease softly, before he pulled away, pressing their foreheads together, “I love you… The fact you have a few extra bits doesn’t change that.”

“Really?” Marc’s eyes flared wide, hope surging inside him that he’d found someone who honestly and truly didn’t care, “Even though I’m…”

“If you call yourself a freak again for this you’ll be in trouble…” Jorge frowned, smiling when Marc smiled, “This doesn’t make you a freak… Staying on a crashed bike makes you a freak, this doesn’t… This makes you special, and that’s not the same at all.”

“I…” Losing his words to a kiss, Marc clambered onto Jorge’s lap, Jorge’s fingers digging into his ass, gripping tightly through cotton, touching him like nothing had changed, kissing him equally normally, “Please…”

“I’ve got you…” Jorge latched his mouth to Marc’s neck, sucking a mark, like a reassuring branding, “You are not a freak…”

“Pleaseplease…” Whimpering as Jorge pushed a hand between them, it going into his shorts as he rocked on the older man’s lap, Jorge’s fingers wrapping around him, making him wail with neediness, Marc let his head fall onto Jorge’s shoulder, tears of relief streaming down his face, everything different, yet everything the same as goosebumps decorated his skin as he hurtled toward the edge, feeling safe in Jorge’s grip, literally and metaphorically, “Jorge!”

 

 


End file.
